


It's Not Personal

by TheMeaningofHaste



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Anal Sex, Frottage, M/M, Oral Sex, PWP, Pre-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, its just porn with a sprinkling of feels
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-23
Updated: 2018-07-23
Packaged: 2019-06-15 07:55:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,660
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15408471
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheMeaningofHaste/pseuds/TheMeaningofHaste
Summary: There on the mats of the dirty gym floor, with Rumlow pinned beneath him, Steve expected to get hit, he really did, when he leaned in for a kiss. What he didn’t expect was a hand to fist in his hair, pulling just this side of too hard, and keeping him close.That was the first time Steve had sex with Brock Rumlow. He was a little ashamed to admit that wasn't the last.





	It's Not Personal

**Author's Note:**

> This is entirely the fault of my lovely beta AuthorOutOfTime. She said "hey what about angry rumlow/steve sex"? and that was all my dumpster brain could think of. 
> 
> Enjoy!

Steve felt the fist connect with his ribs before he saw it. Stars flashed before him and he gasped in pain, relishing how it made him feel alive. He recovered quickly, spinning to connect an uppercut under his opponent’s chin.

Rumlow stumbled back with a curse. "Fuck Cap, I need that jaw."

Steve smirked, feeling a sense of satisfaction at causing the other man pain. Steve had been working with the STRIKE team since he got to DC a year ago. That meant a lot of time in close quarters with the team’s captain, Brock Rumlow. Steve didn't know what it was about the other man but he got under his skin more than anyone had since he woke up from the ice. They spent a few hours a week sparring, their dislike for each other obvious in the way they 'forgot' to hold their punches sometimes.

A leg swiped under his knees, sending Steve to the mat with a heavy drop. Rumlow was on top of him in an instant, pushing Steve onto his back and straddling his chest. He looked so cocky with his fist pulled back, ready to connect with Steve's face at any moment. "Give it up Cap, you’re pinned."

Steve quirked a brow; he was never one to give up that easily.  He wrapped a leg around Rumlow's waist and easily flipped them so their positions were switched. It was Steve's turn to feel cocky as his opponent tried to struggle underneath him. Thanks to the serum, Steve had a few inches and at least 40 pounds on Rumlow so keeping him pinned was almost too easy. Dropping onto his hands, he leaned down, watching a drop of sweat roll off his nose.

He meant to say something snappy, he really did, but down there, face to face, he found himself distracted.

It was no secret that Steve had been more than a little lonely since moving to a new city. He hadn't had a proper date in years and even then, he’d only had a few. His hand just didn't seem to be cutting it anymore and now, there he was with solid muscle between his legs and he couldn't deny how attractive Brock was. Steve had always been a bit of a sucker for a man in uniform, especially when they were also competent with a weapon. Rumlow stopped squirming and looked up at him, hunger and lust obvious in his gaze. _Screw it_ , Steve thought.

He closed the distance between them, smashing his mouth against Rumlow’s in a kiss that was fierce, more of a fight for dominance than anything else.

Steve expected to get hit, he really did. What he didn’t expect was a hand to fist in his hair, pulling just this side of too hard, and keeping him close. Steve groaned into his partner’s mouth at the feeling. Rumlow took the opportunity to slip his tongue inside, licking against Steve’s in a way that made his knees a bit weak and his blood rush south.

Spurred on by lust, Steve rolled his hips, relishing the whispered “ _fuck_ ” and the feeling of how hard Rumlow was beneath him. A hand flew to Steve’s hip as the man below him tried to thrust his hips up in time with Steve’s. The fingers dug painfully into the flesh, no doubt leaving 5 perfect bruises.

Growling, Steve wrapped his hand around the hand that was in his hair, slamming it against the mat. He began to bite and lick down Rumlow’s throat, tasting the salt and sweat, never letting go of his wrist. Steve kept up his punishing pace, chasing his own orgasm. His head hung and his breath was coming out in pants.

“Yeah, Cap,” Rumlows voice was deep and raspy as he bit the lobe of Steve’s ear. “Take what you want, always knew you had it in you.”

With a roll of his eyes, Steve muttered “shut up,” before covering that mouth with his own. The hand on his hip slid down to palm his ass, slipping under the waist of his sweatpants.

His skin was on fire and he could feel the pressure building in his gut. So close. Steve whimpered, rolling his hips once more before coming with a cry.

Below him, Rumlow continue to grind up against him, chasing his own release. His hair was tousled from their sparring and his skin was flushed; it was such a pretty picture. Lips and teeth nibbled down Steve’s neck, sucking dark circles that wouldn’t last. With a guttural groan, Rumlow bit down on the junction of Steve’s shoulder and neck. His hips continued to stutter as he came, his back arching off the floor and up against Steve chest as pleasure flooded his body. Steve gave a small whimper and hung his head, his own hips ground down one last time as a second orgasm surprised him.

Not taking time to even catch his breath, Steve pushed himself up, adjusted his soiled pants and made his way to the locker room, not stopping to look back at the other man. He felt disgusted with himself. Steve had always thought he was above screwing someone he hated on a gym floor like a couple of teenagers. He turned the shower to as hot as it would go, hoping to burn off the last 15 minutes.

That was the first time Steve had sex with Brock Rumlow. He was ashamed to admit that wasn't the last.

 

xxxx

 

The second time was barely a month later. They had come back from a particularly bad mission and Steve knew he wasn’t handling it well. The second their Quinjet touched down he was out of it and making his way towards the gym. He had a lot of steam to blow off.

The steady pounding of the punching bag under his fists was soothing. It probably wasn’t what his SHIELD recommended shrink would suggest the shrink that SHIELD had insisted he see would recommend, but Steve couldn’t find it in him to care. The church had exploded before they could find the bombs and he was itching to beat something or someone to a pulp. The first bag broke apart under his fists in minutes, falling to the floor with a resonating thump.

Steve popped his back before bending down to pick up a second bag. There weren’t many things he missed about The Avengers tower but the reinforced punching bag Tony had engineered for his was a godsend. Until he found out how to get one shipped to DC though, he was content to burn through a few bags a week.

When he finally stopped, his mind was blissfully blank; numb. He had no idea how much time had passed and it wasn’t until he moved to unwrap his hands that he saw the bright red blood stains seeping through the tape. Great, he thought with a curse, the pain finally starting to move up his arm. He couldn’t ignore the small voice in his head though that suggested that he deserved the pain, and more. He had let two kids die in the explosion. He should have been faster, should have been _there._

With a sigh, Steve began to drag his burst bags off the floor. As much as he was itching to go another couple of rounds he knew his knuckles were already split and bleeding too much. If he seriously hurt something he would have to listen to someone at SHIELD fret over him and that was the last thing he was in the mood for. As he made his way to the locker room to clean off the soot and grime, Steve was vaguely aware of another presence in the gym. Probably Rumlow, guy had his own anger issues he often took out on a bag. Steve supposed that was about the one thing they had in common.

Steve found himself falling back into the never ending cycle of what ifs and should haves as he started the shower. He didn’t wait until the water warmed, stepping under the lukewarm spray without thinking to close the curtain. No one ever came in this late, especially not right after getting home from a mission. Steve pound his fist against the tile, hanging his head as tears threatened to fall. He would give almost anything to clear his mind but nothing seemed to work for long.

The door to the locker room closed with a bang and heavy boot steps made their way across the tile towards him and the showers. He couldn’t be bothered to care, putting an arm up against the wall before letting his forehead drop against it. The showers in the lockers were probably the best he’d had, surpassed only by Tony’s but Stark never was a man to be outdone. There were three heads, all facing towards the center and beating down on the tense muscles of his back in the most glorious way.

“You look like Hell.”

A gruff voice pulled Steve from his thoughts. Rumlow was sitting on a bench, pulling off his boots. As he moved though, he never took his eyes off Steve. Steve could almost feel the weight of the other man's gaze on his skin and found himself thinking back to that night on the mats in the gym. They never talked about it, both men in a silent agreement that they wouldn’t bring it up. Still, despite how ashamed Steve was for rutting against a teammate he hated on a mat in the gym, the memory and sight of Rumlow had his stomach clenching in anticipation. The hunger in Rumlow’s eyes wasn’t helping either.

 "Gee thanks,” Steve replied finally, unable to control his snark. “You sure know how to make a fella feel special.”

 Rumlow rolled his eyes and tossed his soiled T-shirt to the floor. “Calm down big guy, it was just an observation. You can’t always save everyone, Rogers. We were too late this time. You would’ve just gone down with the rest of the building.”

 Steve sighed, scrubbing a hand over his face in frustration. “Look, no offense Rumlow but I’m not really in a mood to talk.”

 Standing in just his boxers, Rumlow held his hands up in surrender. “Alright, I get it. But if it helps, just remember those sons of bitches got blown to Hell, too.”

 A smile pulled at Steve’s lips and he was a little ashamed to admit how much it did help. He turned to look at the man smirking at him, giving Rumlow a once over. The STRIKE Captain was almost solid muscle and Steve would have to be blind to not appreciate his strong jaw. Pushing down his better sense, Steve jerked his head in the direction of the shower. “You gonna get over here or what?”

The smirk on Rumlows lips faltered for a second and his eyes widened as Steve’s words sunk in. With a low growl, Rumlow shucked off his shorts, stalked towards his locker where he rummaged around for a minute before turning his sights back on Steve. He was already getting hard, one hand stroking himself as he walked.

Steve groaned, letting one hand drop down to his own cock when he saw the small packet in Rumlows hand.

“Do you really keep lube in your locker?” Steve smirked, both amused and really fucking aroused at the concept.

Rumlow shrugged, the picture of confidence as he stepped into the shower and dropped two small packets on the ledge next to a bar of soap. “Are you really complaining right now?”

In response, Steve turned and pulled Rumlow in a crushing kiss instead of answering. The other man pressed up against him, skin on skin, under the hot water. He reached up to run his fingers through dark hair, pulling gently on the longer strands. Rumlow groaned into his mouth giving Steve the perfect opportunity to slide his tongue in, searching out more in a battle for control.

Like before, the kiss was heated and harsh, teeth occasionally clacking as each man sought to gain the upper hand. Breaking away, Rumlow groped behind him for for the soap as he panted for air. “Too bad you broke the mold when they engineered you,” Rumlow murmured, slowly rubbing the bar of soap across Steve’s chest. “Fucking incredible.”

Steve smirked, pretty sure the STRIKE Captain wasn’t entirely sure what he was saying. “Is that an actual compliment, Rumlow?”

Brock growled, the sound resonating low in his chest. “Turn around,” he demanded, swatting Steve’s ass with the palm of his hand.

Biting back a whimper, Steve found that he was happy to give up control just this once. His mind was finally slowing under Rumlow’s ministrations. Not one to go easy though, Steve spread his legs and arched his back _just so_ as he turned. He knew the position enhanced the definition in his muscles and could almost see the other man's Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed. “See something you like?”

_Crack!_ Rumlow simply replied by spanking him, his hand leaving a bright red print on pale flesh. “Spread em Cap,” he ordered, bringing his hand back to leave a matching handprint on his other cheek.

Steve whimpered, dropping his head against the wall as he complied, tightening his grip around his dick. He was impossibly hard as he flicked his thumb across the tip, catching the precum that was gathering there. Behind him, Steve’s heightened hearing allowed him to hear the soft crinkle of foil as Rumlow tore open a packet of lube. Though, he still couldn’t hold back the shiver of surprise when he felt something cold and slick circling his hole.

“You ever done this before big guy?” Rumlow’s finger continued its tortuously slow pace, the tip of his thumb barely dipping in with each motion.

Steve nodded, his nerves on fire as he pushed back. He needed more, and he needed it now.

Rumlow bit back a groan at the idea, his index finger slipping in to the second knuckle. “Imagine that,” he said, brushing his lips across Steve’s shoulders as he spoke. “Captain America, shiny symbol of patriotism and fucking holiness, likes taking it up the ass.”

 “Do you ever shut up?” Steve grumbled, breaking off in a gasp as Brock slid in a second finger with the first.

 “You’re not in much of a position here to talk Cap.” Crooking his fingers, he emphasized his point by pressing against Steve’s prostate just that side of too hard.

 A loud crunch echoed in the tile stall as Steve hit the wall, stars filling his vision at the sensation. “Just fuck me already,” he gasped, hoping he didn’t sound as desperate as he felt.

 Rumlow let out a low chuckle, twisting and scissoring his fingers. “No way you’re ready already, Rogers.”

 Steve shook his head, sudden flashbacks of the church exploding pushing into his mind. “It’s fine,” he grunted, teeth grit.

 Brock rolled his eyes, slipping a third finger in, happily ignoring his commanding officers request. Pressed again the wall, the blonde made a frustrated noise. “Fine,” Rumlow said, pulling his fingers out. “Fine, but don’t cry to me when it hurts.”

 Pressing a hand to his eyes, Steve shook his head, sending water droplets flying. “After today, it’s probably all I deserve.”

 Frowning, Rumlow’s hand paused as he spread the contents of the second packet over himself. Deciding that sort of thing was what Rogers had real friends for, the STRIKE Captain resumed his motions, groaning at the hot slick on his straining dick. Grabbing Steve’s hip firmly in one hand, he lined his tip up with the blondes stretched hole. “Ready big guy?”

 Nodding, Steve pushed back, slowly taking each inch until Rumlow’s hips were flush against his ass.

 “Oh fuck,” Brock groaned, his eyes fluttering shut and his head dropping against Steve’s broad, firmly muscled back. Before him, Steve was panting, exhaling sharp bursts as he tried to adjust. It felt like every nerve in his body was on fire and if Rumlow moved in the slightest, he may just go up entirely in flames. It hurt, oh god did it hurt, but in the way that sent every other thought flying. The burning stretch chasing away his demons and leaving room only for sin.

 “Move,” Steve whispered, his eyes still screwed up in discomfort.

 Rumlow let his hips shift, pulling out just an inch before gently pushing back in. Never releasing his death grip on Steve’s left hip, god he wanted to see the Captain marked for days, he reached around to palm Steve’s flagging erection.

 Steve whimpered, his hips jutting forward into the touch. Looking down, Rumlow watched as his cock slid out, just the tip staying pressed inside Steve’s ass. “Fucking Hell,” he breathed, snapping his hips.

 “Ah!” Steve let out a steady stream of curses and cries as Rumlow kept up a punishing rhythm. Shifting his hips slightly, Steve saw stars as Rumlow brushed against just the right spot. If the low chuckle in his ear was any indication, Rumlow knew he’d found his target.

“Fucking take it so good,” he babbling, his fist slipping over Steve’s cock as he pounded his from behind. “You gonna keep up that super soldier stamina?”

Steve whimpered, his orgasm too close for him to think clearly on answering. Behind him, Rumlow growled, releasing his hip long enough to lay a firm slap across his ass. Mouth open in a silent scream, Steve felt his release, watching it splatter against the tile and drip down Rumlow’s hand.

“That’s it,” Rumlow groaned, his hips stilling for a second as he rinsed his hand under the spray. “Think you got another one in you?”

Steve’s legs shook but he nodded, spreading them a little wider and grinding back against Rumlow. “Only one way to find out Agent.”

Lips pulling into a wicked grin, Rumlow snapped his hips. Steve felt himself harden again as the other man bit and licked across his back and up the side of his neck. The pain from earlier was gone, leaving him overly sensitive and completely blissed out. He wrapped his hand around Brock’s, tightening the other man's grip and showing him how to twist his wrist just _so_ at the tip with each stroke.

“Fucking needy,” Rumlow grunted, slowing his hips into long, heavy strokes.

Smirking, Steve tightened around him, relishing the shout his partner made at the sensation. He felt his orgasm building again, his stomach tightening and head reeling at the feeling. Behind him Rumlow seemed to be just as close, babbling a steady stream of curses and groans.

“Think you can manage?” The STRIKE leader pulled his hand from Steve’s dick, grabbing his right hip tight enough to leave a matching pair of marks. Rumlow’s hips seemed to move on their own, thrusts increasing until his skin was slapping against Steve’s ass with each push.

Steve chuckled, fisting his own cock, the sound turning to a gasp. Brock sank his teeth into the soft skin at the nape if Steve’s neck, muffling his yell as he chased his own climax. His hips stilled but, not quite there, Steve pushed back against him. He was _so close._ Rubbing his thumb one last time over the tip, Steve came.

“Christ,” he moaned, letting his forehead rest against the wall.

“Language Cap.” Rumlow smirked, rubbing the bar of soap across himself. Under the trio of jets, he cleaned up quickly, stepping out without giving Steve a second glance.

Watching the other man walk away, Steve turned and sank against the wall with a sigh. As the adrenaline began to fade he felt sore and empty, the edges of his mind turning fuzzy as memories from the day threatened to creep back in. “Fuck.”

 

XXX

 

“Where does he get off yelling at me in front of everyone for that?” Steve threw open the door, letting it hit the wall with a loud bang, drywall buckling from the impact. He was fuming, Fury’s words ringing in his ears  

_‘You’re a national symbol, Cap. Symbols don’t get to have opinions on National television, especially not when they’re controversial.’_

Not watching where he was going, SHIELD agents and personnel were jumping out of his way as Captain America continued to rant. “It’s not like the idea that women are their own people who can make decisions about their bodies is really that radical of a notion.”

Half jogging to keep up, Rumlow snorted. “You really don’t know much about the twenty-first century if you think conservative assholes aren’t going to jump all over that.”

Steve glowered, his heart was pounding in his ears and if he didn’t get his hands on a punching bag soon he was liable to find something or someone else to hit. “Shut up Rumlow.”

"I mean, there’s a reason they put you in front of the cameras,” Brock continued, ignoring his request. “All you had to do was stand there and look pretty; say some shit about freedom and bald eagles.”

The halls around them had cleared, word spreading across comms that it was best to stay out of Captain America’s path to the gym. As the STRIKE leader spoke, Steve’s hands balled into fists, his knuckles turning white. His lack of freedom when it came to having his own opinions, his own mind even, had tempted Steve to hang up the shield more than once.

“-really, it’s what you’re good at.”

“Are you still talking?” Steve snapped, whirling to face the other man.

Not expecting the sudden stop, Rumlow ran straight into Steve’s chest. Steve only had a few inches on in him, but puffed up like this, full of rage, the man seemed to tower over him. “Easy, big guy.”

Taking a step closer, Steve’s voice dropped to a deep growl. “You run your mouth way too much.”

Rumlow looked up at him with a cocky grin. “Yeah, what are you gonna do about it?”

Casting a glance down the hallways, Steve hooked a finger through the belt loop of Rumlow’s pants before walking backwards towards the nearest door. Pulling the door open, Steve all but threw the other man into the supply closet.

Landing in the floor, Brock scrambled to his feet, crouching in the middle of the closet. He was calculating every move the super soldier made, caught between fight or flight. Turned out neither was the correct response as Steve shut the door behind them, hands flying to the zip of his suit.

“Got a much better use for that mouth,” Steve growled.

“Fuck,” Rumlow breathed, feeling his cock start to swell at the thought.

Still clad in the red, white, and blue, Steve should have looked ridiculous as he pulled out his hardening erection. But instead, the soldier’s eyes flashed dangerously and he radiated a sense of power and authority that made Rumlow a little weak in the knees.

Steve ran his fingers through Rumlow’s hair, tugging gently at the dark locks. Falling forward to his knees, the other man pulled Steve’s close, letting his warm breath ghost over the flushed tip of Steve’s dick.

Steve fought the shiver that ran through him at the sensation, tightening his fingers in Rumlow’s hair.

“Isn’t it a little cliche to be doing this in a supply closet?” Rumlow’s mouth was curled into a smirk as he looked up through dark lashes.

Rubbing his thumb across Rumlow’s lower lip, Steve rolled his eyes. “What did I say about that mouth?”

As the other man leaned in, licking him from root to tip before swallowing his cock inch by inch, Steve took a moment to marvel how someone could still smirk with a mouthful of dick. Somehow, Rumlow managed though, the corner of his mouth staying upturned as his eyes fluttered shut. Rumlow held Steve’s hip steady as he bobbed his head, his other hand falling to rub his own erection through his pants.

Letting out a low groan, Steve reached to a nearby shelving unit, gripping it tight. The way Rumlow was licking over his slit with each stroke was starting to make him weak at the knees. Turned out, looking down made it even worse. Seeing the STRIKE leader, a man norally known for being in control at every move, at Steve’s complete mercy went straight to his dick.

Steve’s hips stuttered forward; the mouth around him was so hot and slick and he needed _more_. Rumlow choked around him, his throat constricting as Steve’s cock hit the back of his throat. The fingers on his hip tightened in warning.

“Watch it, Cap.” Rumlow’s lips were shiny and swollen as he looked up, fighting to catch his breath.

Steve pushed a sweaty piece of hair out of Rumlow’s eyes with a smirk. “Thought you were supposed to be good with your mouth, _Agent_?”

Letting out a low growl, Rumlow swallowed him back down until his nose was pressed against Steve’s skin. “Oh fuck,” Steve gasped, the plastic siding of the storage unit warping under his grip.

The room and the anger from his day slowly faded away until the only thing Steve felt was the hot puffs of breath against his skin. His world was narrowed down to the lips, tongue, and just a hint of teeth that were wrapped around his dick. He hardly noticed that Rumlow’s pants were open, barely heard the soft noises of pleasure the other man made.

“Christ,” Steve groaned, cupping Rumlow’s cheek as he watched his dick disappear from view. “So close.”

Rumlow made a soft grunt of acknowledgement, taking Steve to the hilt and swallowing around him. With a cry, Steve came, toes curling in his boots, back arching, and head rolling back to hit the door. Steve watched as Rumlow swallowed his release before wiping at his mouth with the back of his arm.

“Come on, Agent,” Steve coaxed, raking his hands through Rumlow’s hair. The other man's head came to rest against his hip, Steve’s uniform muffling his cries as he came with one last twist of his hand.

“Christ,” Rumlow groaned, looking around for something to wipe his hand on

Steve tossed him a towel from the top shelf, watching the other man clean himself off with a satisfied grin. “Need a hand?”

 

XXX

 

Steve saw his fist hit the bag more than he felt it. He had finally gotten a reinforced punching bag sent down from New York and had put more than one beating on it in the last half hour alone. His mind was still reeling from their mission, Natasha’s smug smile as she downloaded files burned into his mind. _‘No, that’s your mission.’_  

"You know you’re allowed to rest post mission right?” A voice called, sound echoing off the gym walls. Steve didn’t have to turn, his fists never slowing as he spoke. He could easily picture Rumlow standing there, leaning casually against the wall as he watched Steve take out his anger.

“Yeah, I could apparently say the same thing about you,” Steve replied, finally throwing a casual glance over his shoulder and seeing Rumlow there exactly as he’d pictured.

Rumlow shrugged, still dressed in his tactical uniform. He should have looked out of place in the gym but damn if he didn’t look straight out of one of Steve’s wet dreams. Apparently he really did have a thing for men in uniform. “What the Hell happened back there anyways? Where was Romanoff?”

Glowering, Steve gave the punching bag one final uppercut, knocking it off the chain. “She apparently had her own orders.”

Rumlow pushed off the wall, strolling over to examine the broken bag. “That’s fucking bullshit Cap. She mention how we were supposed to cover a ship as big as the Lemurian Star if we all had our own agenda?”

With a sigh, Steve ran a hand through his sweaty hair. “She left that part out.”

“Come on big guy,” Rumlow said, voice soft as he placed a hand on Steve’s bicep. “That’s enough punishment for one bag tonight.”

“You going soft on me Rumlow?”

Rumlow snorted, leading the super soldier out of the gym towards the lockers. They barely made it over the threshold of the locker room before Steve spun on his heels, backing the other man up against the wall.

Chest to chest, Steve glanced across Rumlow’s face, looking for permission. The brunette rolled his eyes, grabbing Steve by the neck and pulling him into a bruising kiss.

For a moment Steve felt himself relax under the hot mouth on his. The tension in his shoulders began to fade as he licked into Rumlow’s mouth. Placing a hand on the other man's hip, Steve let his right hand trace across the hard lines and edges of Rumlow’s chest. Ducking his fingers under the edge of his shirt, Steve smiled into the kiss as he felt Brock shiver against him.

“I think it’s time you got out of uniform, Agent.”

Steve took half a step back, looking Rumlow over expectantly. Smirking up at him with swollen lips and thick lashes, Rumlow shrugged out of his jacket, tossing it in the direction of a nearby bench. The black t-shirt underneath was quick to follow and wasn’t that a pretty sight. Steve pulled off his own shirt before closing the distance between them once again.

The feeling of skin on skin set his nerves on fire. Every touch was too much and not enough all at once. The scratch of Rumlow’s stubble on his neck sent chills down Steve’s spine and he needed more; so much more. Rolling his hips against the man in front of him, Steve grinned at the hard bulge the bucked back against him.

“Eager?”

“Shut up, Cap,” Rumlow growled in reply, wrapping a hand around Steve’s erection and squeezing just so.

Steve groaned at the contact, hanging his head as his breath came out in huffs against Rumlow’s neck. “Still keeping that lube in your locker?”

Eyes fluttering shut, Rumlow bit back a curse before giving a curt nod as he crossed the room. As the STRIKE leader fumbled with the combination of his lock, Steve took it upon himself to make it as difficult as possible as he nipped Rumlow’s earlobe. Pressed close, back to front, Steve reached around to tug at his belt and fly, thumbing at the growing damp spot on Rumlow’s boxer briefs.

“You know, people think you’re all holy and shit,” Rumlow groaned, letting his head roll back and his hips bucked into the touch. “But you’re a goddamn menace, Rogers.”

Steve snickered, smirking as he turned the other man back to face him before tugging down his gym shorts. “No one would ever believe you.”

“Damn shame too.” Rumlow let out a soft whistle as he gave him a once over.

Reaching down, Steve stroked himself lazily as he crowded Rumlow against the wall once again. Their mouths fit easily against each other, soft skin seeking out familiar tastes. Steve moaned into the kiss as Rumlow’s dick brushed against his own. Rumlow swallowed the sound, taking the opportunity to lick into Steve’s mouth, tongues sliding against each other.

The soft crinkle was the only warning Steve had before he felt cold slick drip down his cock. Rumlow took them both in hand, calloused skin rough on sensitive flesh. Leaning over the shorter man, Steve placed a hand on either side of him, effectively caging Rumlow in. The feeling of Rumlow’s cock against his was heady, causing his hips to thrust forward of their own accord, chasing the delicious friction between them.

“Fuck,” Steve groaned, the feeling of Rumlow’s lips brushing across his jaw and neck threatening to send him over the edge.

Rumlow nodded, too far gone for words as his strokes quickened. The scratch of Rumlow’s stubble against Steve’s skin sent shivers down his spine and a drew a gasp from his lips. With a silent cry, Rumlow came, his release splattering their chests and wasn’t that a sight. Steve reached down to cover Rumlow’s sticky hand and gave himself two, three more strokes before he followed his partner over the edge.

“Christ,” Steve cursed before capturing Rumlow’s mouth in a kiss. As his body began to relax, he felt the tension of the day slip away. He knew that tomorrow he’d have to confront Fury but until then, this was enough.

Pulling back, Rumlow ducked under Steve’s arms and pulled a towel out of his open locker and made quick work of their combined mess. The two dressed in what was becoming a comfortable silence, each too high on endorphins to be embarrassed of their arrangement.

“Does Romanoff know that all those times she tries to set you up on a date, you’re hiding out somewhere with me?” Rumlow asked, shooting Steve a shit eating grin as he washed his hands.

“Go to dinner with me,” Steve replied, feeling as shocked by the words coming out of his mouth as Rumlow looked.

Clearing his throat, Rumlow threw his jacket into his locker. “Did you really jump out of a damn plane without a fucking parachute?”

Steve rolled his eyes as he pulled on his T-shirt, his stomach clenched with nerves. “You’re avoiding the question.”

If Steve didn’t know better, he would have thought that the look Rumlow gave him from across the room was more than a little sad. “Sorry Cap, things are about to get a little busy.”

Before Steve could mention it, the small frown was gone in a flash, replaced by his trademark smirk. Giving him one last once over, Rumlow turned on his heel and was out the door, leaving Steve alone with a weird feeling in his gut. That was the last time that Steve slept with Rumlow. He didn’t know it but in just a few hours his world would be turned upside down.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Phew. I hope you enjoyed that trip to the dumpster fire with me. Thank you for reading and if you have a moment to leave a comment let me know what you think. Also always feel free to come yell at my on tumblr at ScienceofSociopaths.


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